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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656221">Too Close For Comfort</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds'>lostinthesounds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Love Confessions, season 7 speculation, the possibilities we could have, void!bellamy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:56:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656221</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you’re going to kill me,” Clarke forced the words out with a shaky voice, until she opened her eyes and found the strength to continue. His grip loosened in a quick reaction of shock, and she grabs his wrist and pulls. “Make it a clear shot because I’m not giving up on you, Bellamy.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s quite the full circle moment don’t you think?” He argues, tugging his hand out of her grasp to step back and retreat. “You were the one that almost killed me and now I get to actually kill you. It’s been a long time coming.”  </p><p> </p><p>(<i>Void!Bellamy on Bardo</i>)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>220</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Too Close For Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi everyone, I actually liked tonight’s episode and thought of this lovely gem as I’ve been fangirling over Void!Bellamy for weeks now. </p><p>Thank you all for reading, feel free to leave kudos or comments if you like what you read. It means the world! (A huge thank you to the people who nominated this fic for best canon fic under 10k words in BFWA 2020, I can’t believe it! thank you for a nomination two years in a row!) </p><p> </p><p>In light of recent events in American politics and horrific actions, I’ll be linking a CARRD to inform those on where to find petitions to sign, donation links and ways to educate yourself HERE: https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/ </p><p>please donate and share information if you can to those who aren’t informed. thank you for reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“No, please no—“ Clarke struggled in her restraints, the will to fight against her enemies was so strong that she was stumbling in her stance. “You can’t possibly have him—“ </p><p> </p><p>The men dressed in white hold her wrists tighter, the only man dressed in black (she figured it was their leader named Andreas) had a gold streak along his cheek. Eyes narrowed, focused on the control panel in front of him. She hears him speak for the first time, “I wish I had empathy for killers like yourself, Clarke Griffin. I wish I could tell you that you could fix a man that’s been turned into a brother.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“He has a family.” She spat. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“He doesn’t know that.” The man pointed a finger at Bellamy through the screen with a thin smile. He didn’t care. He erased Bellamy’s memories, and it made her blood boil in anger. She wished she had more to say herself, any smart remark that could get her into the room with him, but her throat was on fire. If she spoke, she was afraid she could cry. </p><p> </p><p>“What is he doing?” Clarke croaked. She lost herself in the sight of Bellamy hunched over an unconscious man dressed in dirty clothes, even in the dimmed light of the room, she could see the faint glow of the countdown fading from their skin. He wasn’t alone, having another man matching his exact outfit from head to toe. White jumpsuit, gold outlining the sleeves and hem of the pants. The same steel eyes that make her shiver and turn her head in disbelief. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>That wasn’t her Bellamy. It wasn’t the man she knew. </p><p> </p><p>Not the man she ultimately loved. </p><p> </p><p>He has a needle in his hand, and she needed to speak up about it. </p><p> </p><p>“Is he killing that man?” She asked in concern, lower lip beginning to tremble. This wasn’t him, she reminded herself. Bellamy was never made to be a killer. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s called revival, Wanheda.” The name being said aloud makes her shake, her past coming to mind after spending years to forget the things she’s done. “The process of becoming a disciple is simple, you see?” Andreas points to the faded blue countdown number and keeps his voice steady with pride. “After the chosen complete their vocations, they are brought here to Bardo. A planet that redeems you of sin.” </p><p> </p><p>“You erased Bellamy’s memories.” She tries to lunge forward, voice cracking with emotion. She yelps when pulled back into a tight grip of hands wrapped around her wrists, pain spreading throughout her body. “You <em>took</em> him!” </p><p> </p><p>Andreas straightens up, and his disciples that were holding Clarke tilt their head in confusion. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s no man by the name of Bellamy here.” He clarified, addressing only his men. Only his brothers. “The man performing the procedure is your brother, and shall be referred to as a member of this army.” </p><p> </p><p>Then, the door automatically opens. </p><p> </p><p>A bell goes off in the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke is getting ushered too fast out of the room by two disciplines that she only has time to yell, “You can’t do this! You can’t build an army!” </p><p> </p><p>“A war is coming, Wanheda.” Andreas’s voice booms through the hallway as the door closes with her frantic exit. “And it will be your fault that your friends won’t be on the winning side.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She doesn’t hear any more bells. </p><p> </p><p>No more alarms. </p><p> </p><p>No more agony of listening to people’s worst and painful memories. </p><p> </p><p>No sounds of doors opening. </p><p> </p><p>Her time would be coming soon though, as she’s taken from her jail cell to one of the white rooms with the bell above the door. </p><p> </p><p>She would hear the sound of her own heart breaking as she was thrown into a blinding white room with the man she was desperate to save. She hears the lock click. Although his back is turned, the sight of him makes her ache. </p><p> </p><p>She’s scared inside. But she doesn’t bang on the door to let her out. </p><p> </p><p>She walks forward. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I’ve been waiting for this since you left me after the mountain, Commander.” Bellamy snarled, putting down the towel that he was using to wipe blood from the latest syringe. Clarke tried hard not to think about the way her body reacted to his voice, how her fists clenched at the reminder that they would be watching her. It doesn’t surprise her that they wiped his memory up to their knowledge of the death wave. It still doesn’t mend her broken heart. <em>He</em> was her broken heart. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Clarke licks her lips, focusing on his black curls instead of the sensory blinding whiteness of the walls. There was a monitor in the corner of the room, and it shocked her to recognize her own face was on the screen. </p><p> </p><p>“Surprised?” Bellamy follows her gaze, and she snaps her head back to him to see that a pistol was hanging from a holster on his belt buckle. There was a roughness to his tone that she would never associate with her Bellamy. A nastiness, knowing just the right words to make her regret everything she’s ever done. </p><p> </p><p>She holds her breath, “Surprised to know that I wasn’t kidnapped first to atone for my sins. We know I’ve done worse.” </p><p> </p><p>“That’s what I was thinking too,” Bellamy clicked his tongue, staring at her photo on the screen that made them both remember a time where they were determined to save the world. A world that they didn’t know would crumble at their feet. They have different perspectives now, but it doesn’t stop her from reminiscing. She’s frozen in her spot, “Until I thought of the relationship you and I have.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She doesn’t move. She can’t. </p><p> </p><p>He’s the one walking closer. </p><p> </p><p>He continues to taunt her in a deep voice, “You only come to me when you need something. I kill because you force my hand.” His hand reaches for the gun in his belt, and she can’t help it. She closes her eyes and tries not to let the tears fall, tries not to show any weakness. Her eyes burn. He was inching closer, and she couldn’t look at the stranger in front of her. “The mighty Wanheda, crawling back to an old friend because she has a war to win.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You can’t fight for Andreas.” It’s all she says, licking her lips that suddenly go dry. Arms sticking to her side, she’s overwhelmingly tempted to reach out and grab the gun from his belt. To touch him. To stop him at any cost. He’s so close that she could feel him breathing against his cheek. “You’ll get killed.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She knows she would lose her composure entirely if she thought about the first time he said those words to her. <em>Mighty Wanheda</em>. It broke something inside her then in the middle of an office that was foreign to her knowledge because she had been gone for three months, and it tears apart the seams she tried so hard to repair with people she loved.</p><p> </p><p>It breaks her to know that she hurt him that bad. </p><p> </p><p>The man who couldn’t stand the sight of her walking through camp after the Dropship crash, who couldn’t fathom the mention of her name without turning his head—was the same man who wouldn’t let her share the burden of torturing enemies. Who wouldn’t let her do the hard challenges on her own. Who loved her even when she didn’t love herself. Who forgave her when she most certainly didn’t deserve it. </p><p> </p><p>“So now you’re worried about me?” Bellamy leaned in closer, his own anger and despair igniting every word that leaves his mouth. “You weren’t worried when you found out that I had helped Pike kill those grounders while you were living in luxury and safety?” </p><p> </p><p>Her attempt at staying calm wasn’t working. “This is not what this conversation is about, Bellamy.” </p><p> </p><p>“You weren’t worried when the Azgeda king stabbed me with a knife all because I made the irrational decision to try and save you—“ </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Bellamy</em>.” She warned. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“There is no Bellamy anymore!” Bellamy roared, pulling back to compose himself. “The man that you knew was following you blindly because he thought he needed you to survive. He thought he needed you to be a better person, to live a better life. He thought he would die without you, <em>Clarke</em>.” He teased. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She doesn’t know that she’s crying until Bellamy’s hand comes up to cradle her jaw, leaning into her ear and his words are far from comforting. “He doesn’t need you anymore, Wanheda.” The name slips off his tongue so easy that she wonders if he’s been conditioned to use it as a tactic. If the disciples forced an image in his brain to remember her. “I don’t want anything from you. I never did, and I thank Andreas for showing me the light.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t mean that, you can’t—“ </p><p> </p><p>“Tears are a sign of weakness.” He whispered lowly, and she felt like a fool when she relished in the feeling of his fingers brushing against his skin only for his grip to tighten around the side of her neck. “Killers don’t cry, Clarke.” Bellamy said it as if he was annoyed with her antics. She wasn’t doing this on purpose, she was afraid of losing him. “You should know that.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He was right. Killers don’t cry, they fight. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“If you’re going to kill me,” Clarke forced the words out with a shaky voice, until she opened her eyes and found the strength to continue. His grip loosened in a quick reaction of shock, and she grabs his wrist and pulls. “Make it a clear shot because I’m not giving up on you, Bellamy.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s quite the full circle moment don’t you think?” He argues, tugging his hand out of her grasp to step back and retreat. “You were the one that almost killed me and now I get to actually kill you. It’s been a long time coming.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Clarke takes a deep breath, not taking his words to heart. This wasn’t the Bellamy she knew. This was a version of him that was brainwashed to believe the worst in his family. In his partner. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s no one else I’d rather be with as I die.” </p><p> </p><p>“The feelings are mutual.” He surprises her then, lunging forward to grab her shoulders and pull to the ground. </p><p> </p><p>She curls into her neck so her head doesn’t hit the marble floor as hard as he hoped, but the grunt that passed her lips was enough for Bellamy to reach for her hair and tug backwards to make her arch up. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re going to have to fight back to stop me, Princess.” </p><p> </p><p>Clarke held in a silent scream, a silent plead for him to stop because the nickname would always leave her a bit speechless. She missed those days. </p><p> </p><p>“I won’t kill you.” She swore, bringing her knee up between his legs to kick him in the abdomen to shrug his body off of hers. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She was getting through to him. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It only took a few punches to the stomach and kicks to his side, but she was tired of keeping her emotions inside. She was tired of lying to herself. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy had blood running down his forehead from a cut above his brow, where the needle scraped against his skin when she pushed him into the operating table. </p><p> </p><p>She was on her back, spine aching as she was pushed into the floor under the weight of the man above her. She was gasping for air with his hands curling around her neck, and it was a painful reminder of the Bellamy that was under the sways of the red sun in Sanctum.</p><p> </p><p><em>I don’t need you anymore</em>, he said. She needed to use it to her advantage. </p><p> </p><p>“You said you don’t need me, but <em>I</em> need you.” She wheezed, grasping but failing to reach his shoulders as he choked her. “You were right all along, Bellamy.” </p><p> </p><p>“If you keep talking,” He paused, gritting his teeth and pressing his fingers harder against her throat. It was getting hard to breathe. “It’s gonna be a painful death.” </p><p> </p><p>“Take the gun out and shoot me.” Clarke challenged, tightening her jaw as she wrapped her hands around his elbows to push him back. When he loses balance and falls on his side, she perches herself on her elbow to gasp for air to re-enter her lungs. She couldn’t give up. She has to keep going for him. “It’ll make it easier for you. Don’t you have another brother to train?” She mocks even if it feels wrong to say. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy cracks a smile, wiping the blood from his brow. </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t deserve a quick death.” He tried to keep the vulnerability from shining in his voice, trying to master his emotions after losing everything. After losing the ability to feel. “Not after breaking my heart.” His voice lowers an octave, and for a second, she tells herself that Bellamy is still in there. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke gives up then, she’s so exhausted from trying to convince herself that she doesn’t love him. </p><p> </p><p>She never meant to break his heart. To break him completely. </p><p> </p><p>She was never supposed to love him. </p><p> </p><p>He was never supposed to love her. </p><p> </p><p>But they fell in love. Even if the words were never spoken, they were perfectly told unspoken. Through touch, soft embraces, warm smiles and moments of vulnerability that would always make sleep come easy at night. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy wasn’t brainwashed. He was confronted with the demons of his past and he fought them. He was only punished in the end for how he feels about Clarke, about the rest of his family. He was influenced by people who want him to fight for revenge. </p><p> </p><p>“Take the gun out.” Clarke told him, eyes watering with hot tears. Her neck aches; and although she knows she would very well die with Bellamy’s marks of hatred on her body, she knows in her heart that the man she knows would never do anything to hurt her. “Shoot me.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t deserve it.” </p><p> </p><p>In that moment, Clarke sees a shard of glass from the operating table an arms length away from her and she takes a chance. Love was about taking chances, her father told her that once. She doesn’t second guess her decision in reaching for the glass and getting a tight grip before stabbing Bellamy in his thigh. </p><p> </p><p>His groan of agony makes her heart drop, but she has nothing to lose. She was telling the truth earlier, she wouldn’t mind facing death if Bellamy was the last person she spent her time with. </p><p> </p><p>If she loses Bellamy, she isn’t sure how she’d move on with her life. How she’d live happily. </p><p> </p><p>He reaches for his gun, and she tugs at his arm so he could land on top of her to rest the leg that she stabbed. He knows better than to pull out the glass, so when she reaches for the wound, her fingers are warm with his blood. </p><p> </p><p>Her lower lip is shaking, she’s sweating out of fear and honest nerves, and it hurts to breathe—but nothing would hurt her more than losing him to Andreas. She has to get through to him, no matter the cost. No matter if she has to die for him to live. </p><p> </p><p>“You bitch.” He grunts. “Why couldn’t you just die?” </p><p> </p><p>Clarke starts to cry, as the gun gets pointed and shoved against her forehead. </p><p> </p><p>“Pull the trigger.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t deserve this.” He repeated again. </p><p> </p><p>She wraps her hand around the one he has on the trigger, pulling him close. “If you hate me so much, pull the <em>damn</em> trigger.” </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shifts on her, fingers unwrapping and wrapping around the pistol to show his hesitation. In a sudden outburst, he pulls away. “Why are you so okay with this? Do you have a weapon on you? Planning to stab me again?” </p><p> </p><p>His hand is quick to run down her side, searching for anything that pokes or pricks his skin. When he finds nothing, Clarke’s cheeks are wet with fallen tears that she can’t hide anymore. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m accepting death.” She whispers. “I’m accepting death because even after six years of knowing you, I’ll never know how to live without you. I’ll never be okay with living without you, Bellamy. If I can’t save you then I’d rather die knowing you’ll get killed because I couldn’t stop it. Call me <em>Mighty Wanheda</em>, <em>Commander Of Death</em>, all you want. Because I know who I am. I know who you are too.” </p><p> </p><p>“You left me.” He admitted, and as if it never left, the barrel of the gun was pressed against her forehead and she closed her eyes. She was accepting his actions, his mistakes, on the behalf of the man she loved. On behalf of the man she knows is still alive in there. “You abandoned me when I needed you!” He screamed, and for the first time, she felt his hand shake on the trigger. “You don’t know me anymore!” </p><p> </p><p>“I know you, Bellamy.” She sobbed, “I know that you hated me for leaving. I’m sorry about that, I truly am. I know that it’s okay if you pull that trigger.” She bites her lip, her other hand wrapping around his wrist to feel his pulse pounding. He was nervous too, he had to be, no matter how he felt about her now. She had memories of their relationship after the mountain, the only reason she let him go was because she loved him too much to let others know how she felt. “It’s okay, Bellamy. Do it.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You were the one to change me. You made me a better person, then tore me apart like some animal. You changed me, not Andreas. Not my brothers.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“They aren’t your brothers.” Clarke shook her head as she shut her eyes tighter. “You have a family that’s looking for you just like I was. If I changed you into the monster you think you’ve always been, then please—“ </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You broke me.” Bellamy cuts her off, and she knows how that feels. They’ve been broken together, bruised and burned, and somehow they ended up here. “If I kill you, I’ll be put back together.” </p><p> </p><p>“Do you wanna know why it’s okay if you let go of that trigger?” Clarke let’s her head fall against the cold marble floor, and she’s fully at his mercy. Whatever he does, she has no control over his choices. She knows Andreas is watching them, but she doesn’t care. “I know the Bellamy that would rather die than not see his sister. I know the man who would’ve fought trained assassins so his sister wouldn’t have to fight. I know the man who would’ve died if a radioactive death wave hit me while driving to a lab where his friends were stuck.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“That hasn't happened yet—“ He can’t finish his sentence, and the metal of the gun digs into her skin and she whimpers. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke knows it’s now or never. </p><p> </p><p>She lets her eyes flutter open, and with the way Bellamy’s eyes widen, she knows she must look broken and worn down from fighting and finding every excuse the one thing she’s been afraid to admit since the day she realized when they were leaning against a tree after surviving Dax’s betrayal. It was a lifetime ago, and she knew that in every possible life she could have, she would always love him. </p><p> </p><p>“I want you to kill me if it brings you peace.” She tilts her head back, and guides his hand to the center of her forehead. “ I want you to know it’s okay because<em> I love you</em>. The man I love wouldn’t hurt me unless he wanted to, and had a reason to.” </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs, and she swears that she could see his eyes turn glossy and he begins to blink fast to hide whatever emotion he’s feeling. </p><p> </p><p>The room goes silent. </p><p> </p><p>She tries to listen to her heartbeat, the rhythm of her body as she takes a breath, because she knows there’s a chance the trigger could go off. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You,” Bellamy tilts his head, fighting himself inside. </p><p> </p><p>He pulls the gun back. “Left.” </p><p> </p><p>Then points it at her a minute later. “Me.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I left because I was afraid.” Clarke fought back, fought against the demons in his head. She would always fight alongside him. “I was afraid of how close we had gotten. It wasn’t long after until we realized the Earth was burning, and you left me for six years.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“No, that’s not true.” Bellamy shook his head violently, and a few specks of blood finally fell onto the white material of his suit. He would never be innocent, but he would always be regretful. “I wouldn’t leave you like how you left me.” </p><p> </p><p>“You left because I told you to!” </p><p> </p><p>“I would never leave you!” Bellamy raised his voice, his lip quivering in realization. “I loved you too much and I wouldn’t be able to—“ </p><p> </p><p>“Survive?” Clarke pressed her knee into his wound, and he winced. He needed pain to remember things, and she would help him. “You survived without me for six years and that’s why I know you could live happily without me if you pull the trigger.” </p><p> </p><p>His nails dig into her thigh when he pushes her knee away, and she cries out “The longer you wait, the more painful it is.” </p><p> </p><p>“I thought you wanted something quick?” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I’m watching the man I love try and kill me,” She doesn’t have any strength to wipe the tears that fall, and her hands are numb with how bad she’s held back from touching him. “You’re hurting me because I deserve it. It’s breaking my heart. You’re breaking my heart, and it’s okay because I want you—“ She grabs his collar to pull him closer, “I want you to be the last person I see.” She smiled, not listening to the way her abdomen aches when she extends her arm to reach for him. </p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t have time to close her eyes when the gun fires. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The monitor in the corner of the room shatters with the impact of the bullet hitting the screen, and Clarke gasps in surprise. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy turns back to her, his own face twisted in confusion of what he just did. He shot the monitor so Andreas wouldn’t be watching them. </p><p> </p><p>Did she get through to him? His hand goes up to rub his forehead, a pained gasp leaving his lips when he releases pressure. He pulls away from her to deal with whatever was happening as Clarke laid there clueless. </p><p> </p><p>“Clarke?” His brown eyes go big, and he’s scrambling as far as he could when he falls backwards. He tries to get as far as he could away from the horrible things he just did, and he doesn’t remember the men he’s already changed, but his head is pounding and he doesn’t want to believe that he tried to shoot Clarke with the gun in his hand. “Oh Gods—<em>Clarke</em>?” </p><p> </p><p>His hands are visibly trembling as they rake through his hair and take in his outfit, and he doesn’t have anything to say. </p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy?” She asks in awe, wiping away her tears rapidly before biting back a groan as she sat up to crawl over to him. She’s pretty sure she has a few pieces of glass stuck in her arms, but she can’t focus on anything other than the man in front of her. “Is it really you?” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Did I try and….” He realizes he’s still holding the gun and throws it to the side, and points at it. He looks at her, “I tried to shoot you.” </p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t remember—“ </p><p> </p><p>“I tried to kill you, Clarke.” </p><p> </p><p>“What do you remember?” She questioned urgently, knowing she didn’t have time to cry over how much she missed him. Over how relieved she was to have him back, to know she wouldn’t have to lose another person she cared about. “Tell me.” She demanded. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy surprises them both, swooping her into his arms so she could land in his lap. His legs are outstretched in front of him, but she knows he needs comfort and she wouldn’t hesitate in hugging him back because she needs it too. She needs to know he’s okay. </p><p> </p><p>“I remember everything up to the city of light, and you coming back.” He was still shaking in her embrace as she held no remorse in tightening her legs around his waist and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I wanted to shoot you. After we started fighting, I couldn’t really think straight. I’m sorry about everything—“</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s heart broke, and she hoped he understood her cries in shoulder to be one of relief and not regret. </p><p> </p><p>She told him she loved him and he didn’t remember. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be sorry.” She said. “I’m the one that actually stabbed you.” </p><p> </p><p>He winced at the mention, “I don’t think I could walk, but I forgive you.” </p><p> </p><p>“I forgive you too. Always.” </p><p> </p><p>“How are we gonna get out of here?” </p><p> </p><p>Then, as if everything aligned in these six planets, they hear Raven’s voice outside of the door as a warning to step away before it explodes. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you tell me something?” Bellamy whispered in her ear, just wanting one more moment of peace. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.” </p><p> </p><p>Clarke wants to tell him. But it’s not the time, like every other time she’s tried to tell him. </p><p> </p><p>“You forgot six years worth of memories, Bellamy.” She croaked, hoping he wouldn’t ask why she won’t look at him. She gets off of him, and stands. “We need to find Gabriel to help you.” </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy looks up from his sitting position to see the bruises on Clarke’s neck, and he doesn’t have a chance to ask for forgiveness when the door bursts open. </p><p> </p><p>They had a war to win, and Andreas has always been the enemy. He wanted to ask why she was lying to him about what he missed, because he remembered her saying I love you. He was dazed for the entire conversation, but those words were something he’s been waiting to hear for years. He can’t forget that. </p><p> </p><p>He won’t ever forget it now that she’s said it. </p><p> </p><p>He would ask for forgiveness until those bruises fade, until his guilt blurs into a faint memory, until he gets to tell her he loves her back. </p>
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